


I'll be a cliché if it's with you

by EnlacingLines



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Felix is an idiot and hate Valentine's Day, First Dates, First Kiss, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Getting Together, M/M, Sylvain is also an idiot but loves it, Valentines Day Fic, background Dimileth - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:29:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22719190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EnlacingLines/pseuds/EnlacingLines
Summary: “Oh, dear... you didn’t realise, did you?” Dimitri asks, getting up with a bunch of pink heart-shaped confetti sticking to his jeans.“That’s why there was a special menu…” Felix whispers in horror.Dimitri comes forward and, after hesitating for a second, pats his shoulder cautiously.“Yes. I’m afraid you have booked yourself a Valentine's Day first date,” he says.
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Comments: 22
Kudos: 226





	I'll be a cliché if it's with you

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Valentine's Day! And what better way to mark it than by posting some Sylvix?
> 
> Thank you so much to my lovely friend Sara for betaing, you are amazing, and I promise to use the Oxford Comma more. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

It’s been 182 days since these unfortunate feelings occurred, and Felix is absolutely done. Fed up, bored, exhausted even, of this continuous bizarre and unwanted affliction that strikes whenever Sylvain appears in his vision. 

If he’s being brutally honest, and Felix usually is, these symptoms have been festering for longer. Years in the making, somehow finding a weak point when he was younger and less aware, but it’s only lately that the full force of their meaning has emerged. 

Felix has two ways of dealing with problems. Beating them into submission, which is harder with emotions, but over the years he’s become adept at metaphorically pounding his feelings into a pulp until they can be contained. It’s not the healthiest of coping mechanisms, so this leads him to his second method. 

Confrontation. 

Again, this is a take on the ‘beating into submission’ plan, but you can’t really deal with people by asking them to duel in this day and age, (a shame really, the past must have been a simpler time), so this involves just facing something head on, as swiftly and practically as possible. 

It doesn’t always work. It usually comes with him having to speak to someone, and words are not his forte. When he crafts a sentence in his head, words tend to materialise before him in a way which upsets the other person, which is rarely his intention. So in many ways, avoiding issues by squashing them down is the best option. But again, this rarely works, as is the case with his Sylvain problem. 

He’s spent 182 days being in love with him, and sadly, there appears to be no cure. He’s tried every way to suppress and dissolve it, but his breath still catches when Sylvain smiles one of his rare, true smiles, his eyes track his back whenever he moves in those stupidly too-small t-shirts, and he spends hours willing Sylvain to look his way, just for Felix to scowl on the defense when it occurs. 

It doesn’t work, so step two. He’s just going to have to date him. 

Felix isn’t one to shy away from what he thinks, wants, and says. So if for some reason his mind cannot fathom he wants Sylvain, then he’s going to try his hardest to fulfill that desire. He’s known Sylvain for years; Dimitri can probably tell him the date and time they became friends, he’s that type of sentimental. But Felix will pull out his hair out, strand by strand, before asking. 

All that matters is that he has few memories from childhood that don’t include Sylvain, and although they spent time apart as teenagers, all three of his childhood playmates have been slowly drawn back together as adults, all of them working relatively close to one another. 

Felix is twenty-two years old, and has never been in love before; his priorities in life have never really allowed him the chance to delve into more than fleeting interests in others that have taken the back burner to more important things. But this unmistakable bolt of emotion that arises so keenly for Sylvain doesn’t need him to have prior understanding. It’s too bright, too incessant, and oddly right to be anything else. 

So he sends a message to Sylvain, asks him to meet after work today in a small cafe they often haunt, a little out of the way and usually not too busy in the evenings. Sylvain sends him a million questioning cat faces, but agrees when Felix ignores everything for twenty minutes. He realises, once the confirmation comes through, though, that his hands are shaking. 

“Felix, are you okay?” Dimitri asks, and Felix jumps, not entirely sure when he’s appeared in their kitchen. 

“Yes,” he snaps back, and bites a huge chunk off his toast so Dimitri doesn’t try and talk to him again. 

Dimitri looks a little alarmed, but shuffles to the coffee pot, pouring the rest of the freshly made brew into a cup and taking a gulp. Felix shivers in mild disgust, manages to swallow the too-large bite, and stands up to get ready to leave. Dimitri calls goodbye to him and Felix only lightly slams the door in reply, stomach flipping over the toast in wide circles as he walks to the station. 

The day continues like that. Every bite of food makes him nauseous, every sip of caffeine makes him jittery, and his eyes are constantly flickering between the time and his phone, jumping at the notification of a message. 

This is almost worse than the previous feelings. Felix really hopes this confession will be the end of them. 

It’s at lunch when it hits him: he actually has no idea what he’s going to say. He’s been on the receiving end once or twice, but he can only dimly recall varying feelings of embarrassment at being in the situation rather than what the person actually said. Ingrid and Dorothea started dating after making out drunkenly at a party when they were sixteen, so that’s no help. He has no clue how Byleth and Dimiri became a couple, but he has a strong belief it’s mostly down to her, and, once again, he will pull out his hair before asking. 

Ashe could probably help, or Annette; they’d both be good at this type of thing. But he has four hours before he’s meeting Sylvain, which isn’t enough time to catch them while they’re both busy, and definitely not enough time to deal with the million details Annette will ask for. 

Over the years, he’s witnessed many women and men confess to Sylvain, but this provides him with more of what  _ not _ to say than what to actually say. The years of being sought after as the heir to his father’s fortune, as well as the attempts at arranged marriages, mean that Sylvain doesn’t particularly value pretty prose. Which works in his favour, as Felix is certain that won’t be what comes out of his mouth. 

A strategy is needed then. He’ll buy Sylvain’s favourite coffee and cake, wait a little while until the meaningless pleasantries are over, and then ask him to dinner next week. A date. The words almost make him throw up his half eaten lunch, and he despises himself just enough to force his emotions back down and focus on his job for the rest of the afternoon. 

He walks to the cafe, even though the train would have been faster. He needs the frosty early February air to calm himself, pulling his scarf tighter, one Sylvain gave him for Christmas, just the perfect level of softness and warmth. He buries his nose in it, reveling in the gift and the comfort it brings as a steadying method. 

For there is always the potential of Sylvain rejecting him.

The fallout of that could cause shockwaves across both their relationship and the relationships with all their friends, seeing as they are so tied to one another. But these types of thoughts will not do him any good; there is no use getting wound up in potential disaster when he hasn’t even taken one step forward. And that’s all he can do: try and deal with the aftermath if it turns out his feelings aren’t reciprocated. 

He has an inkling they might be though. Their relationship isn’t the same as he has with other friends; an underlay of unspoken communication, of knowing one another but responding instinctively. Sylvain knows when he’s not at his best, gives him the right words and teasing to get him back on track. Sometimes his gaze lingers on Felix too long, in a way that seems too much for just friendship, even one as long as theirs. The small actions speak volumes: bringing him soup when he was sick, even though Felix has a roommate (although Dimitri usually just frets or panics when someone is sick), remembering significant events Felix just mentions in passing, and sometimes, only sometimes, drawing into his space too close to mean anything platonic. 

But again, his love-addled mind could be making mountains out of mole hills. Infatuated reasoning shouldn’t be trusted. 

He’s annoyed by himself enough to push the door to the cafe open with slightly too much force, the bell ringing aggressively and causing him to flinch. He shakes it off, goes to the back where, as predicted, not many people are seated. He flicks open a menu just for something to do, already knowing exactly what he’ll order. 

He doesn’t have to wait long, Sylvain striding in a few moments later, his own red scarf wrapped in layers around his neck, clashing and matching with his bright hair in the same instant. He marches over to where Felix sits, smile growing with each step, and Felix stands abruptly. 

“Sit, I’ll get it,” he says and Sylvain laughs. 

“I haven’t even decided what I want. And hello, Felix,” he says with a laugh at the perfect note to rattle Felix’s bones. 

“Unless your taste buds have been removed overnight, you order the same thing every time, so just sit down, Sylvain,” he says. 

He means this to be a pleasant meeting, the start of something new, perhaps, but of course his nerves have him on the defensive, and he’s already snapping instead of speaking. But Sylvain just smiles once more, claps his shoulder, and walks to the table, leaving Felix’s skin tingling at the touch even through his clothing. 

He mechanically walks to the counter, orders, and finds his foot tapping with nervous energy as he waits for their drinks. He glances over at Sylvain once or twice, but he’s taken the seat with his back to the counter, and appears to be absorbed by his phone. Felix stares at the back of his head, at the windswept hair which he longs to pat down to its usual position. 

He’s thankful when the drinks and slice of cake are ready, for he obviously cannot be trusted with his own limbs if he’s circulating  _ those _ types of thoughts. So he swiftly carries the tray over and gives Sylvain his coffee and cake without a word. 

“Damn, I was craving something sweet. How much do I owe you?” Sylvain asks and Felix shakes his head. 

“It’s fine,” he says, and Sylvain gives him ‘adorable face number three’ because apparently he started categorising the various faces this man makes since there were just too many. He deserves to have his coffee poured all over his head. 

“So how was work?” Sylvain asks as he digs a fork into the sticky mass of chocolate with glee, and Felix launches into a slightly nervous rant about the incompetence of his colleagues. Sylvain indulgently allows him the space to vent while he slowly eats the cake. He tells Felix in turn about the new client he’s working with, gesturing wildly with his fork in a way that’s far too endearing. 

Felix makes it until his coffee is gone and Sylvain’s eaten two thirds of his cake before he breaks. 

“I asked you here for a reason,” he begins, and Sylvain looks up, a seriousness marking his features.

“I figured. What’s up? You know you can talk to me, Felix,” he says, with so much warmth and trust that both eases and puts him on edge at the same time. 

He grips the empty cup and takes a breath, Sylvain watching him closely, almost as if he, too, is bracing for impact. 

“I have been thinking and... I have realised, I’ve grown fond of you,” he starts and every word is unfiltered agony, it all feels so awkward and false, not quite the right statement as he can’t put forward his feelings into any language he knows. 

“You’ve finally decided you like me?” Sylvain says with a laugh, and Felix clings onto that statement.

“Yes, I do like you, Sylvain. I like you... quite a lot,” he says and Sylvain stops laughing as the weight of Felix’s words and the seriousness of his expression hit. 

He doesn’t do anything else, just those eyes, calculating, that revelation on the intelligence he’s spent so many years pretending wasn’t there. Felix tenses, cannot help it, his mind going into overdrive with the concerns he’s been holding back, the ‘what ifs,’ as the feelings aren’t mutual, and the awkwardness of what could happen-

Sylvain reaches out and places his hand over Felix’s, where it’s still clutching his cup in a death grip. Slowly, one by one, he eases Felix’s tense fingers away, and they follow, almost frozen stiff in his sudden bout of nerves, until Sylvain is holding his hand, thawing the tension out by rubbing his thumb gently along his knuckles. 

“I’m pretty fond of you, too, you know. Have been for a long time, just wasn’t sure how to say it,” he says, and it’s as if the world restarts without him knowing it stopped in the first place, his vision almost speeding fast, suddenly aware of every point of contact between them. 

And Sylvain is smiling widely, contagiously, in that way that he’s been infecting so much of Felix’s life and mind of late, that he can’t help the slight upturn of his lips in return, causing Sylvain to squeeze his fingers lightly. 

They continue, much to Felix’s surprising delight, holding hands as Sylvain finishes his cake and they talk just as they always do whenever they meet. The only change being the obvious touching and smiles that seem to grace their lips more unabashed and almost with awe. They only cease to hold onto one another for practicalities sake as they leave, having to add on their layers once more.

“Friday, next week, are you free for dinner?” Felix says as they exit, and Sylvain’s eyebrows rise. 

“Next Friday... sure. Yeah, I’m free,” he says slowly, and Felix nods then, suddenly hit by a tiredness and relief of how it all went. 

Sylvain kisses him on the cheek as they part ways, swooping in unexpectedly, then leaving with a wink as Felix stays stunned outside the cafe. He may have lifted his hand to the spot where Sylvain’s lips had been. But only once Sylvain is well out of sight. 

* * *

The week passes in a flurry of work and more messages from Sylvain than ever before. Which is quite an achievement, seeing as he’s generally chatty. But these are accompanied with hearts of various colours and quite often ridiculous innuendos which make him want to hurl his phone at the wall with how he blushes. 

He books a table at a restaurant in town, pleasantly surprised that they have a special menu on offer. So he makes that part of the reservation, sends Sylvain the details on Thursday, and receives a red heart in reply. He rolls his eyes, pretends he’s not smiling, and goes home with a spring in his step that he’s just going to run with. 

He enters his apartment, only to find it’s been transformed into a child’s craft project. 

He stares as his six-foot-two roommate sits in the middle of the floor amidst what has to be hundreds of sheets of coloured paper, glue sticks, sequins that have spilled into a pile, an overturned packet of pens, three pairs of scissors, and pots of paint. He looks up as Felix enters, and there’s pink glitter smeared over one cheek. 

“What... the fuck is happening?” Felix says in what he hopes is his most calm voice. 

Dimitri smiles nervously. Maybe not so calm then. 

“I’m... making a Valentine’s Day card,” he says quietly, and Felix just stares at him. 

“Are you six? Why are you making Byleth a Valentine’s Day card? Why are you even celebrating that commercial bullshit?” he asks with a scoff. 

Felix recalls he made a Valentine’s Day card once, at school he thinks, an extremely long time ago. He has visions of holding the sticky paper, covered in about as much glitter as is on Dimitri’s face, accompanied by cat stickers. It was a mess, and he doesn’t envy the poor soul he gave it to, or more likely he took it home and Glenn is probably saving it for peak embarrassment one day. 

Dimitri raises an eyebrow. “Say’s the person who arranged a first date on the night before Valentine’s Day.” 

Felix’s mouth falls open. That’s... he looks at his watch and confirms, Dimitri is absolutely correct. 

“Oh, dear... you didn’t realise, did you?” Dimitri asks, getting up with a bunch of pink heart-shaped confetti sticking to his jeans. 

“That’s why there was a special menu…” he whispers in horror. 

Dimitri comes forward and, after hesitating for a second, pats his shoulder cautiously. 

“Yes. I’m afraid you have booked yourself a Valentine's Day first date,” he says. 

Felix spins out of his grasp and turns away, hands on his hips and digging into the flesh there. He’s messed up, but he can’t cancel. Cancelling on Sylvain now isn’t an option. He really wants to go on this date, but the fact that it’s Valentine's Day is mortifying. 

“How did you not realise?” Dimitri asks and Felix turns around in frustration. 

“I hate this meaningless day. Why the hell would I remember what it was?” he hisses. 

“Everyone knows when Valentine's Day is. And I think it’s nice,” Dimitri says, folding his arms, but the whole thing is just bizarre rather than serious as he’s covered in glitter, confetti, and the odd stray sequin. 

“Of course you would,” Felix mutters, deciding to avoid all this by taking off his coat and shoes, so he has something to do with his hands. 

Dimitri and Byleth are almost nauseating with how much they adore one another, the perfect classic romance. He’ll buy her red roses, they’ll look at each other lovingly, and live their fairy-tale romance. Logically, Felix knows it isn’t that perfect, he’s aware they work hard for what they have. But they could be the inspiration for every love song, while Felix doesn’t even like hearing one. 

If he’s honest, he doesn’t know what he likes. Perhaps he’ll have a chance to find out now. Or perhaps not, seeing as he’s already failing at the first hurdle. 

“Maybe I should cancel,” he says, louder than he intended since Dimitri almost runs over to his side.

“No, no, don’t do that,” he says and Felix narrows his eyes. 

Dimitri sighs and looks away as Felix’s expression doesn’t change. Eventually, as he’s always done, Dimitri gives into his stare. 

“Sylvain is really looking forward to it. So, you shouldn’t cancel,” he explains. 

Felix closes his eyes for a moment against the onslaught, then focuses on the wall to avoid Dimitri. On the one hand, this is exactly what he’s wanted; Sylvain excited for their date, for the beginnings of what they could become. But on the other hand, it raises the expecations with such a cliché route, one that isn’t who Felix is. 

But Sylvain knows that, at least he  _ should _ know that. Apart from that, it’s not an atmosphere for a first date, too many...  _ Dimitris _ will be present, all these sickening couples when he isn’t even completely sure there will be more than a first date. Especially if he’s putting this much pressure on it. 

“Felix? I can see you panicking.” 

“I’m not panicking. Wait, is Sylvain talking to you about our date?” he says, and immediately his hackles rise. 

He’s not sure how he feels about that, strangely burning with jealousy that he has no reason to feel; Sylvain and Dimitri are friends, better friends than he is with Dimitri, so it makes sense he’d tell. It’s reminding him, though, that he hasn’t said anything to anyone, didn’t want to make this a big deal until he knows it works. 

But also, who would he tell? And that burns because he doesn’t have a friend he feels he can confide in, and Sylvain has Dimitri who he lives with, and right now that’s a confuddled mess. 

All of these feelings just get worse. He contemplates for a moment if this is even worth it. But then he remembers the feel of the kiss on his cheek, the way his eyes had stayed on Sylvain while he smiled and stared back at Felix. 

It  _ is _ most definitely. But it’s also hard to get his head around. 

Dimitri now looks severely concerned, reminding Felix frustratingly of when they were kids and he accidentally broke one of their toys; Felix still remembers the loss of his favourite plastic sword with a pang of childhood grief. 

“Felix, he likes you a lot. I can see you’re thinking you’ve made a bad choice, but I think he likes that you asked him out for Valentine’s date. So, don’t take it as a reason to cancel,” Dimitri says. 

“You see nothing. And stop talking about me with him,” he says, and storms off as far as the kitchen, because he actually needs to make dinner. 

Of course Dimitri can follow him, so does. “Oh, I’m not the one talking about you. I can barely get a word in edge-ways,” he says, and Felix turns red, brandishing a wooden spoon. 

“Go make your disgusting card. And wipe the glitter off your face,” he adds, and Dimitri retreats to the bathroom in alarm. 

Felix makes dinner, tries not to think about Sylvain, fails when the man himself sends Felix a cat video, which is his absolute weakness, and Felix whiles away most of the evening watching various things Sylvain sends him, just because he can and wants to. 

He ends the evening in despair when Dimitri comes knocking on his door at 10pm, covered in even more glitter, and begs for his aid. Felix yells at him for half an hour straight, while he helps him afix tiny flower bunches on the end of the card, then leaves him to clear up the mess with a threat on his existence if he ever mentions this again. 

He’s so annoyed that it makes sleeping strangely easy, as his mind tired itself out from being frustrated, mainly at himself and a little at Dimitri for making their apartment into a mess. But when he stumbles up on Friday morning, the place is spotless.  _ Too _ spotless. Dimitri has cleaned the kitchen in recompense, and Felix sighs before making Dimitri’s favourite coffee, so it’s ready when he gets up. 

He manages a grumbled nod of thanks before leaving, but Dimitri toasts him with his mug as he leaves the door with a kind smile, so Felix knows the gesture has been understood. It’s times like this that he doesn’t really know why they live together, how they still continue to do so when they both drive each other to the edge. 

But it’s not the edge, not anymore. They’ve clawed themselves back to friends when only a short time ago, they were not even on speaking terms. Felix is sentimental, and he can’t remove that. More to a point, he doesn’t want to; so he tries, and Dimitri tries, and they cobble together this thing called friendship that’s bigger and stranger than either understand. But it’s holding together, and he’ll take that. 

He’s distracted again. On his way to work, he can’t seem to stop seeing Valentine’s Day displays, now wondering how it ever escaped his notice. He checks the reservation and although it’s not specifically on the booking, the website clearly states it’s a Valentine’s Day special. 

He’s such an idiot. 

But after lunch, Sylvain sends him a message saying his day has been terrible and he can’t wait to leave work, and Felix has a desperate urge to hug him, more so than he’s ever remembered wanting to hug anyone before. So that settles the matter. 

Dimitri, for all the frustrating space he takes up in Felix’s life, had been helpful when mentioning Sylvain specifically likes the fact that they’re going out on the day  _ before _ Valentine’s Day. So, Felix can suck this up. He can deal with it because Sylvain likes it, and he’s known he’s been weak for Sylvain before he worked out why. 

Or at least, that’s what he thinks until he walks into the restaurant, and it’s decorated as if someone vomited cliché romance from a child’s imagination; every inch and corner has a shade between blush and crimson, each table he passes has a smattering of heart confetti on the table with a deep read candle candle lit in the centre. 

He’s right on time, but Sylvain is early. He rises as Felix is lead over to him, and he forgets for a second about their gaudy surroundings. Sylvain looks good; nothing in particular about his outfit is spectacular, he’s come straight from the office just like Felix. But it’s more of the relaxed air to him, his small smile and the way his whole face is welcoming, waiting, anticipating, in the same way Felix has been feeling since the moment he proposed this date. 

“Hey, there you are,” Sylvain says, and once again presses a kiss to his cheek. He feels like this one lingers more than before, feels Sylvain’s hand briefly touch his back as they seem to just linger in singular space for a moment. 

Then Sylvain retreats and pulls Felix’s chair back for him, which causes him to roll his eyes. 

“Really?” he says, as he sits down. 

“What? Can’t I be a gentleman?” he says with a wink and Felix is about to retort when their aperitifs arrive, two glasses of sparkling wine with... rose petals. 

Felix makes a face. He tries to hold it back, but he can’t, it’s all so hideously fabricated. But he swallows down his own misgivings to raise his glass. He tilts it towards Sylvain who grins widely before lifting his own glass and clinking the rims together. 

“To our first date,” he says and Felix nods, not trusting his face to do something stupid like laugh or declare his love for Sylvain right here in public, so he instead takes a swig of his drink. 

“Our first Valentine’s Day, too,” Sylvain muses, and Felix immediately chokes on bubbles. 

He manages to put the drink down and cough a few times, while Sylvain looks alarmed and pours him a glass of water. Felix grateful takes it and sips carefully, even though his airways are mostly clear. When he puts it down, Sylvain smiles. 

“I know you forgot it was Valentine’s Day,” he says. 

Felix’s surprise must show on his face as Sylvain laughs. 

“Come on, Felix, I’ve known you for how long? You hate this type of thing. When did you remember?” Sylvain asks, leaning forward. 

Felix sighs. “When I came home to find Dimitri covered in glitter making a card last night,” he admits, but it doesn’t matter, for the delight of that story has Sylvain laughing so hard, they forget to look at the menu. 

Once they’ve ordered, Felix looks to Sylvain, who seems content and happy in the strangely red-hued setting. 

“You like this sort of thing, though,” he states and Sylvain tips his head to the side. 

“I like an excuse for romance, yeah. I mean, it doesn’t need to be as gaudy as this,” he says, gesturing to pink heart lights strung around the wall nearest them. 

“But an occasion to make a fuss about the person you care about? Yeah, that’s something I like. Whether it’s their birthday, the first time we met, first kiss, Valentine’s Day, or just a special occasion we make up ourselves, I like it,” he says. 

“We? Presumptuous, aren’t you? We’ve barely started on our first date,” Felix says, to cover up the fact that his face is the colour of the Valentine’s Day banner at the front of the restaurant. 

“Oh, I have a good feeling. After all, I’ve been waiting for this day for a while. Plus, even better, it will make our anniversary Valentine’s Day,” he says and Felix glares. 

“Our anniversary is Friday 13th,” he says, then freezes when Sylvain’s face lights up, but in some ways, he doesn’t care. 

Despite the cliché surroundings, the date, Felix admits, is actually almost perfect. The restaurant is excellent, and the food is fantastic. Felix makes fun of the decor and Sylvain joins in, then becomes mildly horrified when a couple gets engaged in front of them, only making it worse when Sylvain quips he won’t use that as an idea. 

He’s actually sad to go home, for their time together to end. So he grips onto Sylvain’s hand as they walk down the street, face pressed to his scarf so he doesn’t feel the chill, or have to acknowledge his ears are red from contact, not cold. Sylvain walks close to his side, so they are almost pressed together until they reach the end of the street where they must part ways. 

They stop, Felix turning but not letting go of Sylvain’s hand. Sylvain doesn’t either, and he smiles. 

“So, what’s the verdict? Valentine’s Day isn’t too bad after all?” he teases. 

“Valentine’s Day is still a ridiculous commercialized disaster. But our date... was not,” he says and Sylvain shakes his head with a grin. 

“I’ll take that,” he says, then bends down to give Felix a kiss on the cheek, definitely lingering this time. H curls his fingers tightly over his hand once more as he stands up. 

“I’ll be over in the morning, Dimitri wants to go to the gym. If you’re awake, I’ll see you then,” he adds. 

“I’ll be awake,” Felix promises, and Sylvain winks at him before their hands reluctantly fall away, and they each make their way home. 

Thankfully, Dimitri is out tonight, and doesn’t witness Felix come back, grinning like an idiot in love. Which he admits he absolutely is, with less devastation than he’d assume. 

* * *

He wakes up to the sound of voices. His eyes are gummy, the weight of almost too much sleep upon him, but he starts into action when he recognizes Sylvain’s laugh. He detests the fact that he checks his hair and pulls on a sweater instead of just appearing in an old band t-shirt like he would have done before, but things change. And this time, for the better. 

He walks out to find Sylvain lounging by the counter, snapback on and gym bag by the door, looking like a hideous jock, which makes him feel strangely fond. Dimitri is guzzling coffee, and Felix announces his presence by declaring this faux pas. 

“You shouldn’t caffeinate before cardio, it’s bad for you,” he says, and Dimitri jumps. 

“Good morning, sweetheart,” Sylvain calls cheerfully and Felix grimaces. 

“Do not call me that ever again,” he says, then walks over to the coffee pot to fill his own cup, since he’s not going to the gym. 

He turns back around to see Dimitri has vanished, possibly in shame with his unhealthy coffee, and Sylvain has a small bag in his hands. 

“Here, I got something for you. Well, I got one thing for you and another I have to show you,” he says. 

Felix takes it warily, opening it to see an object wrapped in tissue paper, and something else which looks like a card. He picks up the card first, feeling the flimsiness of the paper, and the friction of scraping material on his fingers as he pulls it up. 

And stares in horror at the monstrosity of blue glitter and cat stickers. 

“So, apparently, five-year-old you liked Valentine’s Day because you gave me this. You even signed it with a cat face,” Sylvain says while clearly trying not to laugh as Felix opens it to reveal he’d drawn in bright red crayon an approximation of Sylvain’s name, and signed it ‘love Felix’ with indeed, a weirdly good drawing of cat. For a five-year-old. 

“And the second one is an actual present,” Sylvain presses, so Felix puts the card on the table, giving up any pretense of not blushing and grabs the parcel. It’s soft, and he unwraps the tissue paper carefully, only to reveal a small, black and white plush cat toy holding a heart.

He looks up at Sylvain, who is smiling across the counter but also looking a little nervous. 

“You are so frustrating, what am I going to do?” he asks, the hand holding the cat toy shaking. 

“Be my boyfriend?” Sylvain asks. 

Felix growls and pushes himself forward with a burst of energy and barrels forward to a slightly surprised Sylvain, and kisses him. He hadn’t actually planned this part through, the physical pull of not being able to just stand there any longer without kissing him becoming too much. 

Fortunately, after less than a second of shock, Sylvain is kissing him, too, messily, noisily, and perfectly, that perfect combination of passion and care as Sylvain hands seem to float to his hair, caressing and gentle even as their kiss has a bite and force to it. 

It’s them, it works. Felix can’t remember ever having a first kiss this good, this collision of energies that snaps and fills continuously, until they part, breathing heavily. Sylvain smiles and dips his head to rest his forehead against Felix’s.

“Our first kiss is on Valentine’s Day,” he says with too much delight. 

“Shut up or you won’t get a second,” he says, and Sylvain laughs, changing the angle but Felix has one more thing to say. 

“Yes,” he manages quickly and Sylvain pauses. “I’ll be your boyfriend.” 

Their next kiss is just as deep as their first, filled with so much emotion that Felix almost doesn’t care that for the rest of this relationship, their anniversary will be on Valentine’s Day. 

And he’s aiming for this to last a long, long time. He’ll just have to find a way of dealing with being a cliché. 

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, I once did something similar to this, yes I share Felix's feelings on Valentine's Day, and yes I'd also be as useless as Dimitri when making a card. 
> 
> Come find me on [Twitter](http://www.twitter.com/EnlacingL/)


End file.
